When You Come Back to Me
by MaverickLover2
Summary: The day has arrived at last. Samantha Crawford is getting married, and she's invited both Maverick families to her wedding. Will they go? And if they do, will Sam actually get married?
1. The Letter

When You Come Back to Me Chapter 1 – The Letter

Once a week or so I went into Little Bend to tend to a business that my wife and I owned. It was a saloon named Maude's, after my mother-in-law, and she'd given it to us lock, stock and barrel when our fifth child was born. Of course, I'd been running the day to day operations for some years now, and it was really just a matter of hiring the right people to work for you. And, over the years, we'd acquired all the right people.

Our general manager was Billy Sunday, and a better employee you couldn't find anywhere. He'd worked for my sister in Montana before he'd come to Texas and joined this branch of the family, and I was damned glad to have him. The floor manager was Willie Beacham. Willie started out as a bartender and worked his way up. The head bartender was Johnny Savage. He'd only been with us for a year or so, but Johnny was a sharp cookie who wasn't afraid of hard work. He'd already been promoted twice in that first year of employment.

By the way, my name's Bart Maverick. I spent most of my life playin' poker, until I fell head-over-heels in love with Maude Donovan's daughter, Doralice. Many years and five babies later, I was still in control of the saloon, but my brother Bret and me owned the B Bar M Ranch, raising and cross-breeding Arabian horses. We'd come pretty far with the ranch and had fallen into a nice pattern with everything else. Every once in a while either me or Bret (or sometimes both of us), would take off and go play poker for a day or two, sometimes even three, but we always came home to our wives, our families, and the ranch.

We'd bought our Uncle Ben's land when he went to live in Baton Rouge with his son Beau and family, and that's where we'd built the ranch. There were three houses, two barns, and six or seven smaller barn-like structures with corrals. Bret and his wife Ginny, along with their three kids, lived in one house; Pappy and Maude lived in the second house, and Doralice and me and our brood had the third one. Pappy was our father, who'd evidently decided to live forever. He and Maude had always been good friends, but one or the other was involved with someone else until, suddenly, they weren't. The timing was right, and they'd been together ever since.

This particular day I was almost done with everything at Maude's, and wandered down to the Post Office to see if anything exciting had come in. The only one who ever writes to us is our little sister Jody Beckham, who lives in Silver Creek with her husband and two children and runs The Four Mavericks saloon there. To my surprise, there was a letter for me, in a handwriting that looked familiar but I failed to recognize. I took it back to my office in Maude's and examined it, and you could have knocked me over with a feather. The letter was from Samantha Crawford.

I hadn't heard anything from Samantha in so many years that I'd lost track of her. I checked the return address and it was still the Double C Ranch in Dry Springs, New Mexico. So I opened the envelope and started to read. When I finished the first reading I went through it again, to make sure that I hadn't misread anything.

 _Dear Bart,_

 _It's been a long time since we last saw each other. Many things have occurred over the years to both of us, but something is about to happen in my life that I never thought would. On September twenty-second of this year, at exactly noon, I am going to be married. At long last, I will be a bride. That is almost two months from now, and I'm hoping that by giving you this much time, you will be able to attend the wedding. Please know that this invitation is extended to your wife, and your brother Bret and his wife, and any of the babies that are too small to leave at home. I understand that you and Bret have quite a few between you._

 _You needn't worry about a place to stay, there is more than enough room for everyone to stay here. Catherine Delaney, who runs the household and its staff, said we can accommodate at least twelve adults and ten children. And the date is almost two months away, so you should be able to arrange your schedules accordingly._

 _And just who is the groom, you ask? That is one Zebulon Turner, late of Denver, Colorado. I met him almost six months ago when he came to Dry Springs to look at some land that was for sale. He fell in love with the land here, and I fell in love with him. Something I never expected._

 _Please, please say that you and Bret will come and bring your families. The Maverick brothers are the closest thing I ever had to relatives, and I'd like y'all to be there. Looking forward to seeing you again._

 _As Always,_

 _Samantha_

I was surprised, to say the least. I don't think that Samantha Crawford had crossed my mind since I'd left St. Joe, Missouri. And that was a long time ago. A beautiful woman had taken her place, and I was going to go straight home and ask Doralice what she thought of our traveling to New Mexico for a wedding. And if I got 'Yes' for an answer, I'd be sharing the invitation with my brother Bret and his family.

I had time to think as I rode home. I was talkin' about spendin' time at the one place on earth that held nothing but painful memories for me. But did it really? At least I thought it did. Finding Caroline and losing her. Almost dying from an allergic reaction to aspirin. Nearly burning to death when the house went up in flames. But all of those happened a lifetime ago. So many good things transpired in the years since – too many to mention, but at the top of the list were falling in love with Doralice, our beautiful family, the success we had with both Maude's and the ranch, and my much-improved relationship with and understanding of my father. If I had to weigh the bad against the good, I'd say that I came out way ahead in the happiness department.

Besides, it would be nice to see what Sam had done with the ranch over the years. Nice, too, to show it all to Doralice, so she would finally understand everything there was to know about me. There'd never been another woman in my life like Doralice Donovan Medina Maverick, not even Caroline Crawford, and maybe in New Mexico I could finally help her see just what she meant to me.


	2. Doubts, Fears, and a Pony

Chapter 2 – Doubts, Fears, and a Pony

I didn't bring up the letter from Sam until all the kids were in bed. Then I explained it to Doralice and gave her the missive itself to read. She took her time and looked up into my eyes when she was done. "She sounds happy," my love told me. "Do you want to go?"

"I'd like to, yeah."

"Why don't you and Bret go?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not goin' without you."

"But Bart, Lily's so young. I'd hate to drag her all over in a stagecoach."

"Better she go with us than leave her here with who? Maude? Lily Mae? I'd feel better if the littlest one was with us."

"When is the wedding again?"

"September twenty-second."

Doralice finally gave me a big smile. "Alright, I'll go. And we'll take Lily."

"Good. Then I'll take the letter over to Bret. Let's see if we can get them to go, too." It wasn't three or four minutes before there was a knock on the door. This time of night it had to be my brother or Pappy. We'd decided when we all moved into our houses at the ranch that we wouldn't take anything for granted – and we'd knock on each other's door. It just seemed more civilized that way.

I figured it was probably Bret. The hour was a little too late for Pappy these days. I opened the door to discover that I was right . . . it was big brother. "Did you hear us talking about you?" I asked him as he came in.

"No, why? What did I miss?" I handed him the letter and a warning.

"Better sit down before you read that. You won't believe who it's from."

He turned the envelope over and gasped. "My God, she's still at the ranch."

"Yep, wait until you read the letter." I shut up then, allowing him to do just that. Bret did the same thing I did – read it over twice. When he was finished, he looked at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"What do you think?" he asked, to my surprise.

"I think we should go."

"I wonder what Ginny'll think. What about you, Doralice? You wanna go?"

"I do, Bret. Samantha was a big part of your lives at one time. And she practically begs you both in the letter to come. I've never been to New Mexico. It might be nice."

Bret was nodding. "The ranch is beautiful, that's for sure. Would you take Lily with you?"

"I think we should. And you should take Bodeen." Doralice now thought both of the little ones should go with them.

Bret agreed with Doralice. "I'm sure Ginny wouldn't go without him."

"Are you gonna ask her, then?" I questioned Bret.

"Yeah, if you'll let me borrow the letter so she can read it. I'll return it once she's done with it."

"So what did you come over for?" Obviously, Bret had a reason for appearing at our front door.

He gave me one of those Bret Maverick smiles. "I dunno. I can't remember."

"Pappy's got a better memory than you, Brother Bret."

"Doesn't he though, Brother Bart?"

XXXXXXXX

Two days later we were all in agreement – we were goin' to New Mexico for the wedding. Tim Demerest and Lily Mae Connors were going to be in charge of all the kids that didn't go with us, with Maude and Pappy as backups. Tim was our adopted 'son' who ran the breeding program and Lily Mae was . . . well, she was many things to the Mavericks, but right now she was living in my household as a housekeeper, cook, and surrogate grandmother.

Doralice decided she had to have at least three new dresses to take with her, and by the time the ladies were done shopping, it looked like they'd bought every yard of material that Freeley's Emporium had to offer. That, of course, necessitated Ginny, Doralice and Lily Mae spending an entire week sewing a new wardrobe.

That was fine by me. Doralice hadn't bought anything for herself since she'd quit workin' at Maude's . . . every time she intended to, she found somethin' for one or the other of the kids and bought that instead. I loved that she was always thinkin' of the little ones, but I wanted her to have fine things. So the 'shopping spree' didn't bother me one bit.

As the time for us to leave drew closer we sat the whole family down and explained what was going to happen. Maudie and Belle were fine . . . they were a delightful mixture of little girls and young women. Even Beauregard handled the plans better than we'd expected. Breton was another matter entirely. Being all of not quite three years old, Breton was fascinated by Lily and had taken it upon himself to become her protector, a role that would last well into adulthood. He couldn't or wouldn't understand why Lily was going with us and he wasn't, and no amount of explaining or reasoning was going to make him happy. I loved the little man's devotion to his tiny sister, but we were not going to take Breton with us just to avoid his being upset.

I finally solved the problem by convincing Tim to teach Breton to ride. We now had several ponies on the ranch, and there was one in particular that Breton was fascinated by. Tim and me talked to him one afternoon and explained what was going to happen while we were gone, and he seemed willing to accept the trade-off. He actually sat on the pony before we left for New Mexico; I wasn't about to miss the first time our littlest cowboy sat a horse.

The closer it got to time to catch the stage for Dry Springs, the more nervous I got about going. I don't know why . . . something about the trip had me worried. Of course, I didn't like being away from the ranch or the kids for that length of time; there were so many things that could happen with us gone. Yes, I trusted Lily Mae and Tim to take care of everything, and there was always Maude and Pappy if anything went wrong. Still, something had me worried and I was having no luck in figuring out what it was.

The day before we were to leave, Doralice and me were both in the bedroom packing when she finally said something about my case of the nerves. "What is bothering you?" she asked me. "You were all gung-ho in wantin' to make this trip, and now you're actin' like it's the last thing on your mind. Has something happened? Is there somethin' I don't know about?"

I shook my head and sat down on her side of the bed. "No, blue-eyes. Nothin's happened, no last minute changes. I don't know what it is. Somethin's tellin' me this could be a bad idea." She sat down next to me and put her arms around me.

"We don't have to go, Bart. If you feel that strongly about it . . ."

Instead of giving her an answer, I leaned over and gave her a kiss. That one was so good that I gave her another, and before I knew it we were lying on the bed in each other arms, kissing like we hadn't for a long time. Somebody came to the door of the bedroom lookin' for us; I don't know who it was because they never made a sound and eventually walked away.

"I see no reason to change our plans now. It'll be good to see Sam again after all these years. And I'm curious to see how the ranch has fared. Besides, it'll be good to get away for a while. Nope, we're goin'."

We must have laid there for another fifteen or twenty minutes, intertwined with each other, and it felt right just to lie still and hold the woman I loved with all my heart. I was just worrying for nothing, I told myself, and everything would turn out fine.


	3. The Trip

Chapter 3 – The Trip

Pappy and Tim drove us into town the next morning so that we could catch the stage. There was no one else on it but the Mavericks, but we certainly filled it up. Bret, Ginny, baby Bodeen, plus Doralice, me and Lily. And all the luggage we were taking.

"For God's sake, Beauregard, don't they have any more bags to load on here?" Wally Smith, the stage driver, asked in all seriousness.

Pappy just shook his head and indulged Wally. They'd known each other thirty years or more, and Wally was as close to cantankerous as anybody not named Maverick could get. "They gotta take everything they own with 'em, Wally. Just in case they might need it."

"Quit bad-mouthin' your kinfolks, Pappy," Bret laughed as he issued the order. "You might need us one day."

Pappy looked innocent and helped Tim carry another bag. "Yeah, I don't think so. Ain't needed you up till now, can't see needin' you in the future." Pappy leaned in the stage window as Bret climbed in, the last Maverick to get on board. "You all be careful, son, and stay safe. And be sure and keep that one out of trouble." He inclined his head towards me. "You know how he gets if you don't watch him."

"I resent that remark," I protested. "Bret's gotten into just as much trouble as I have." I paused and grabbed Pappy's hand. "You take care of yourself, Pappy. We'll be home in no time at all."

"Stay safe, ladies," Pappy called, waving, as the stage took off. Tim joined him in the waving but said nothing. That's Tim, alright.

Lily had been sleeping, but as soon as the coach began moving she woke up and wanted to know what was going on. Doralice held her up so that Lily could see all around, and when Bodeen started wiggling around, Ginny did the same with him. They both seemed fascinated by the scenery outside of the windows. Eventually, the rocking motion of the coach put both babies back to sleep. I tried to give Doralice as much room as I could; I'd spent many a day folded up like a blanket inside a stagecoach. And so had Bret, so we both knew just how uncomfortable it could be.

The ladies were in unusually good spirits, and that sort of surprised me. Bodeen was only a month old, and I doubted if Ginny had time to heal from the birth. She had to be uncomfortable. Doralice had the advantage there, baby Lily was already three months old. The baby was alert enough to be interested in the things going on around her. Bodeen wanted to eat and sleep.

That first day of traveling wasn't too bad, mainly because there was a layover in San Angelo, and we all got to sleep in a real bed rather than a rest stop or on the stage. We had a nice dinner at the hotel and decent, clean rooms, followed by breakfast in the morning. Then it was back on the stage, and this time when we were done for the day we were at a rest stop outside of Pecos. That was nowhere near as nice as San Angelo but still, Bret and me have both slept in worse. I made sure Doralice had the best bed, and we played poker all night with the station agent, Wally Smith, and the shotgun rider. It was nice to know the Mavericks hadn't lost their touch, and we intended to sleep all the way to Carlsbad, New Mexico. We both got in about two or three hours when the little ones decided it was time to raise hell, and that's just what they did. All the way into Carlsbad. We had another hotel layover, and I made the most of it. Nothing could have woken me out of the sleep that I found myself in. And I do mean nothing.

Another day passed uneventfully, and the trip seemed to be going smoothly. We had a way station that night, but this time I had learned my lesson. I don't know if Bret slept or not, but I certainly did. I continued sleeping at night rather than playing poker for the next two nights of way stations.

Fortunately the food was better than expected at the last place we stayed, and we ate a good sized breakfast that morning, taking a basket full of sandwiches and apples with us for the last day of coach travel, as there would be no stopover for lunch. By the time daylight had turned into dark, we would be in Dry Springs.

It was a nondescript day of travel. The babies were quiet most of the day; I held Lily and let Doralice take a nap. I don't think she slept well the night before. Lily reminded me so much of Belle when she was a baby; sweet natured and happy to be around her daddy. I stared at this little one, because she was truly tiny, and couldn't believe this would be our last. After I got the hang of being a father, it was one of the great joys of my life. Of course, the first few months were hell sometimes; Maudie had colic and wouldn't stop crying. There were other distractions, too, like Jack Buckley and the month's long fight with the town council. Both of those were eventually resolved, and the tales told elsewhere. Still, I would miss having little ones around.

And the twins were gettin' so big, eight, almost nine years old already. I don't know where the time went. Maudie grew more interested in the ranch and the horses every day; Belle usually had her head in one book or another. Even Beauregard was gettin' big; he was close to turnin' five. His ability to manipulate a deck of cards at his age was truly astonishing.

The closer we came to Dry Springs the more my stomach became tied in knots. Bret had been as quiet as me, and I finally couldn't stand it any longer. "You look like a man with somethin' on your mind," I told him.

He glanced towards me and gave me a funny look. "I could say the same thing about you."

"What do you think we're walkin' into here?"

"I don't know, Bart. Could be just a weddin'. But there's somethin' botherin' me, just like there's somethin' botherin' you. I guess we just have to wait and see what happens."

I started to say somethin', then closed my mouth. Bret was right, all we could do now was wait. Sometime in the next couple hours we'd be in Dry Springs, and I'd get to see just how much the town had changed in the space of half a lifetime. And how much Samantha had changed.


	4. The Arrival (The Walls Talk)

Chapter 4 – The Arrival (The Walls Talk)

"There's the stage, Zeb. They're here."

"Why don't you go out and see them first, Sam, and then you can introduce me?" That was Zebulon Turner, Samantha Crawford's fiancé, making the suggestion. He wanted a chance to take a good look at the folks arriving on the stage before they could get a look at him.

Zebulon was tall and well built, with brown hair and blue eyes. Also, he was a good fifteen years younger than Samantha, and he was curious about the men that she had invited. Would they be younger than he was, or older? Taller, shorter, better looking? Still enamored of Samantha, or long since over her?

Zeb had dozens of questions about Bret and Bart Maverick. But the first that he could get answered was, _'What do they look like?'_

Samantha glanced over her shoulder at Zeb. If she was thinking clearly right now she'd realize he was acting oddly. But the only thing on her mind was her eagerness to see the two men she'd loved during her old life. She stepped out onto the boardwalk as the stage pulled up and stood there waiting for them to exit the coach. It didn't take long; as soon as the driver stopped, the coach door opened and Bret stepped out. She couldn't believe it; he looked the same. Well, almost the same. He appeared to be about ten pounds heavier, and there were some silver streaks in his hair and creases around his eyes that weren't there the last time she'd seen him. All in all, still lookin' like Bret Maverick.

He reached in the coach and helped a woman get out next, with flaming red hair and a baby in her arms. The baby was about a month old, and the woman was drop-dead gorgeous. That had to be Ginny Malone, his wife, and the baby his last son, Bodeen. He draped a protective arm over her shoulders and they moved away from the door of the coach.

Next out was Bart. Her breath caught in her throat, she hadn't seen him in over fifteen years. Except for the silver in his hair, he looked exactly like he did the last time she saw him, in St. Joseph, Missouri. No, that wasn't quite right. If anything, he looked even better. More mature, more prosperous. There was something in his eyes – a kindness, a peacefulness – that hadn't been there before. Just as Bret before him had, he reached in the coach and helped out . . . the woman that was his wife. Small, almost diminutive, she was even more beautiful than Sam had expected. And she carried in her arms another bundle of joy, their last child, baby Lily.

The women stood together while the men helped the driver unload their luggage. As soon as everything was down from the roof of the coach, Sam stepped forward and caught Bret's attention. "Samantha! As I live and breathe! Look what found me, Bart! We wondered where you were hiding." He bent over and planted a kiss on her cheek, then turned to his wife and explained, "Ginny, this is the long spoken of Samantha Crawford. Sam, this is my wife, Ginny Malone Maverick."

Ginny passed the baby to her husband and clasped Samantha in an embrace, followed by another kiss on the cheek. "I'm so happy to meet you, Samantha. Bret has nothing but fond memories of you."

Samantha was all but speechless, but Ginny continued, "This is our newest production, Bodeen Joshua. He's one whole month old." Bret handed the baby back to Ginny, who proudly showed him to Sam.

"I see he has the Beauregard coloring," Sam commented to the baby's mother.

"They all do!"

"He's beautiful," Sam remarked.

She looked up and found herself staring into those expressive brown eyes that she'd once known so well. "Samantha." It was instinctive, almost, when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, then quickly backed away, blushing.

"I . . . I'm so sorry. It's been a long time, Bart. You look well."

"I'm a happy man, Samantha. That has a lot to do with it." He took her by the elbow and turned her slightly; she was now facing . . . his wife. "The woman I couldn't live without. Samantha, this is Doralice. Blue-eyes, this is Samantha."

Samantha extended a polite hand; after making such a spectacle of herself, she dared not do anything else. Doralice took it and held onto it as she shifted Lily to the other arm. "Bart's told me so much about you. This is our last one, baby Lily. Lily, say hello to Aunt Samantha."

Sam took a peek at Lily – she was tiny, just like her mother. Her hair was so light it could be called blonde, like her father's when he was younger, and she had Bart's dancing brown eyes. She caught Samantha's eyes and smiled, big and bold for such a tiny person.

Zebulon finally came out onto the boardwalk, and Sam made introductions all around. The men shook hands, and before she could get much further, Zeb excused himself to go retrieve the carriage, pulled up to the hitching rail further down the block. It gave him time to digest all the information he'd gleaned from their introductions. First, the men themselves.

Both men were older than Zeb, although it looked like just a few years. Even though Bart's hair had more silver than Bret's, it was obvious he was the younger of the two. The wives were both spectacular, personal taste running toward the blonde. Babies were babies, there wasn't that much difference between them beyond the sex. When Zebulon returned with the carriage, all three began loading bags.

"The town sure has changed," Bart noted.

"What do you expect after all this time? It's just like Little Bend – change or die." Bret answered while picking up another suitcase.

"Is it really all that different?" Zebulon queried.

"That's right, you're a newcomer to town, aren't you?" Bart reminded everyone. "To answer your question – yes, it's that different. That used to be a saloon, the jail was down the street, and the town is about three times bigger than it was." The building Bart pointed to was now the _'Dry Springs Savings and Loan.'_

Zeb laughed. "A saloon, huh? We don't need another one of those here, that's for certain."

Bart and Bret exchanged glances but said nothing. "Good thing you got a big carriage," Bret remarked.

"I knew how many we'd have to take out to the ranch. Thank God Sam says the roads are much better than they used to be."

"Yeah, they were pretty rough at one time." Bart put the last bag in the back and looked around town. "Not much left around here that I recognize."

"What your brother said is true. Towns change, or they die."

"I wasn't sure about this one," Bart observed. "I guess I was wrong. It seems to have prospered nicely."

"Yes, well, let's see what we can do about getting everybody on board, shall we? It's gonna take us a while to get to the Double C."

Once they were all loaded, Samantha had a little speech prepared before they took off for the ranch. "Welcome, everybody, to Dry Springs. We are so pleased that y'all came. Now we can have a wedding!"

There were murmurs of congratulations in the air as the carriage started off for the ranch. Bart wondered what the next few days would bring . . . his stomach still hadn't unclenched. He felt a hand on his arm and looked up to see aqua blue eyes smiling at him. "I love you," they seemed to say.

"Me, too," he answered back, quietly.


	5. Chances Are

Chapter 5 – Chances Are

I couldn't see much of the Double C Ranch because it was dark by the time we arrived. The house looked bigger than it had been before the fire, but then I expected that. Samantha had enlarged it considerably when she helped redesign the place. The only thing I knew for sure was that she had virtually eliminated the sweeping staircase that I was standin' on when I got shot. Other than that I had no idea what she had or hadn't done.

When we got everyone inside it became obvious that Sam had removed the second floor entirely. What she had now was a huge house all on one floor. To tell you the truth, I was relieved to see the place look so different on the inside. It had all happened a long time ago, but I'd only been back once since and not having to see everything that reminded me was a relief. Sam gave us a brief tour so we wouldn't get lost in the big house.

Bret's family had a room in the north wing of the house, and Doralice and me were just a few feet away. Sam's suite was located in the south wing. We got all the bags into the rooms and then met in the living room. I absolutely adore Lily, but it was nice to see my wife without a baby in her arms.

Sam had a large round table, and we all sat around it drinking coffee and eating apple pie. I wasn't the least bit surprised to find out that it was homemade. I knew Sam was gonna have to learn to cook if she wanted to survive.

Now that we were here the ladies couldn't stop talking about the wedding. Samantha claimed there were just ten or twelve more people invited, and that it would be a relatively small affair. Zebulon began laughing and had to point out why. "Sam insists she's only invited ten or twelve more people – but she's invited 10 or twelve more people five or six times. By now it's somewhere near fifty or sixty folks that she's spoken to, and we need to make sure there's enough food for everyone afterwards."

I just about burst out laughing, that sounded so much like Sam. "You still got a cook workin' for you?"

"Yes," she answered. "Why?"

"Because you're gonna need plenty of help gettin' enough food ready for the cattle herd you're gonna have in here."

"We're here," Doralice stated the obvious.

"And we can help cook," Ginny added.

"And we can have a spit outside roasting meat," Bret finished the plans with the obvious.

"Y'all are good at planning," Zeb shook his head in wonder. "That's what we've needed."

"How do you like the house?" Sam asked, looking directly at me.

"I like it a whole lot better without the staircase," I told her.

"Is that . . . " Doralice began.

"Yes," I interrupted her.

"How big is the ranch now?" Bret wanted to know.

"About a thousand head," Zeb answered. "We'll start expanding again when the wedding's over."

An unhappy cry could be heard echoing through the place, and Doralice got up to go tend to Lily. "I'm gonna say goodnight to everyone. First one up makes coffee?"

"Sounds good," Samantha agreed. "Everything will be set out in the kitchen. And we really are happy that y'all could come for the weddin' and spend some time with us. Goodnight, Doralice."

Everyone murmured 'goodnight,' and I started to push my chair back to go with my wife when she rested her hand on my shoulder. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

"With you," I told her.

"Sweetheart, you're not tired yet. You come with me now and Lily won't get fed, and I'll never get to sleep. Stay here and talk for a while."

She was right about that. I was wide awake and had no interest in going to sleep. I looked at Bret, who looked at Samantha, who glanced at Zeb. "I'm in," I told the two of them.

"Me, too," Bret replied. Ginny just nodded.

"I will if Sam will," Zebulon agreed.

Sam's answer was quick and easy to understand. She pulled a deck of cards off the middle of the table and began to shuffle. When you don't feel like goin' to bed or don't feel like talkin' . . . evidently it was what Sam and Zeb did for recreation, too, and within a few short minutes we were all involved in a five card draw poker game – even Ginny, until she, too was called away by another hungry cry.

Zebulon was a decent enough poker player – not as good as Bret or me, of course, and not as good as Sam, but he could hold his own with us. We played until quite late – first Bret quit, and then Zeb. By two o'clock in the morning, it was just me and Sam. I didn't know at that moment if we'd have another chance to talk before she got married; I didn't even know if we wanted to. But somethin' kept us both there until we finally quit playin' and just resumed talkin'.

"Samantha," I paused until she turned to face me, "Does Jess still work for you?"

"Yes, Bart, he does."

"What about Walter and Jimmy Whitlaw?"

"Jimmy's still here, too. Walter got killed in a cattle stampede over a year ago. Jess and Jimmy have been lookin' forward to seein' you again."

"I'll go out there first thing in the mornin'." I'd be glad to see the two of them, too.

"You look really happy," she told me.

"I am. The kids are growin' up fast . . . me, too. They have a wonderful mother."

"Bet their old man's not so bad, himself."

It had been so long since I'd heard anything from Samantha . . . I guess I just wanted to be sure that this wedding was what she really wanted. Not that it was any of my business – but still, it was as far as I was concerned. "Are you sure, Sam? That this is what you really want?"

"Little late to be askin' me that now, isn't it? You had your chance a long time ago."

I shook my head. "That's not what I meant at all, and you know it. I'm not askin' for me; I'm askin' for you. It's not too late if you want out."

She looked right at me and smiled. "Thanks, but no thanks. I love Zeb, and he loves me. I want to get married. Did you come all this way just to make sure?"

"More or less." Pause. "Maybe." Pause. "Alright, I guess I did. I wanted to know that you were sure. Sounds to me like you are. That's all I wanted to know, Samantha. And I wanted to know if he made you happy. I guess I got my answer." I stood up and pushed my chair back. "I'm goin' to bed. You take care, alright? I'll see you in the mornin'."

I got about three feet away from the table when she called my name. I stopped and turned back to her; she was still a beauty, with a smile on her face. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Goodnight, Samantha."

"Goodnight, Bart."


	6. One Step Closer

Chapter 6 – One Step Closer

Lily was up early the next morning, which means that Doralice was up early, which meant that I was up early. I shaved and cleaned up, then got dressed and was still out in the kitchen makin' coffee before that little tiny baby had gotten enough of her momma. After that we were both there, waitin' for that black gold to be finished, when the bridegroom-to-be wandered out into the kitchen. "Hope we didn't wake you," Doralice told him, and he shook his head.

"No, ma'am, you sure didn't. Bart, I expected you to still be in bed after last night. You didn't have to be up this early."

"What time did you come to bed, handsome?" Doralice asked me.

"Close to three," I told her. Then I turned to Sam's fiancé. "I tell ya, Zeb, there's a little tiny person asleep in our bedroom that's the reason for my bein' awake. You can't sleep through those. I learned that the hard way when the twins were born. Besides, soon as I get coffee I'm goin' out to see Jess and Jimmie. I sure wish I had them at the B Bar M back home. We'd get a lot of work done."

"Those two do move," Zeb agreed. Before he could say anymore , my brother came staggering out of his room, yawning like he needed eight or nine hours more of sleep.

"Coffee ready yet?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"Soon," I promised him. "I'm goin' out to see Jess and Jimmie when it's done. You wanna go with me?"

"To harass those two? Sure."

Samantha came down the hallway yawning, much like Bret had, at the same time Ginny and Bodeen made an appearance. I poured two cups of coffee and handed one to my brother. "We'll be back later," I told Doralice before planting a kiss on her. Then I grabbed Bret and propelled him forward, out the front door and down the steps. I was halfway finished with my coffee by the time we stepped into the dark coolness of the barn. "Jess," I called out, and heard a familiar voice answer from the back of the building.

"Bart Maverick? Is that you?"

"Yes, sir, and I brought my brother with me."

"I'm on my way."

Jess had aged some. His hair was almost white, and he didn't stand quite so straight and tall anymore. But he was as glad to see us as we were to see him. We must have talked for thirty minutes or more, then saddled up three horses and set out to see just what the ranch looked like. I have to admit, it was in great shape.

We rode everywhere we could get to in an hour. There'd been a lot of changes, a lot of improvements made over the years. Sam probably owned twice the amount of property that she had before, and even though the herd was down right now, she could support several thousand more cattle than she had at this exact moment. Jimmie Whitlock was out with the cows and he was just tickled that we'd come all this way to see Sam get married. We talked about wives and kids, and both men were startled to hear that not only had me and Bret settled down, we had a whole passel of little ones between us. "Gives me hope for the future," Jimmie told us. He'd been married to a sweet little gal from town for almost two years and there were no babies yet, but they were hoping.

By the time we got back to the house it was almost ten o'clock, and the only one there was a Mexican girl of about sixteen or seventeen. She introduced herself as Rosa and explained she was Sam's cook, then offered to make breakfast for Bret and me. It sounded like a good idea and was well worth the wait. Her food was excellent.

Zeb had taken all three ladies into town for supplies and sightseeing. They didn't expect to be back until close to supper time, so I decided the best thing I could do was take a nap. That turned out to be one of the smartest decisions I ever made.

The ladies returned around four o'clock and they were exhausted. That meant I got to play daddy to my Lily Beth, and we had a wonderful time. Samantha appeared in the kitchen to help Rosa set the table, and she stopped for a few minutes to watch me with the baby. "You really enjoy that, don't you?"

"Of course I do. She's my child."

"I thought you were never going to settle down in one place with one woman."

"I didn't think I would either, Sam. And I wouldn't have with any other woman."

She looked confused. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," I answered, trying to get Lily to play patty-cake with me.

"Why Doralice?"

"That, my dear cousin-in-law, is easy. Doralice understands me. She doesn't want to change me or turn me into somethin I'm not. She knows when I need to get up and go, that's just what I'll do. And that I'll always come back . . . to her. She knows I love her more than anything in the world. And she loves me the same way."

"Why Little Bend?"

"That's two questions."

"But why Little Bend?"

I kissed Lily on the nose, then the forehead, then on her tiny fingers. "Because that's where Doralice was."

"That place could have been here."

"That riverboat left a long time ago, Sam. You and me wanted different things outta life . . . what was important to you wasn't important to me. And what you wanted – to stay here in this house, I couldn't live like that. It took me a long time to put everything that happened here behind me. And when I finally did, somebody was standin' in front of me that was everything I ever wanted." Lily was cooing and laughing, and she was damn hard to ignore, so I didn't. Our youngest child reminded me so much of her mother, and I was glad we'd brought the baby with us.

When I looked up again, the table was set and Samantha was gone. The conversation we'd just had bothered me – it was the second time I'd wondered if this marriage was what Sam really wanted. But why would she go through with all this elaborate planning if it wasn't? Maybe it was all my imagination, and I was projecting my own worries and doubts onto her. That became the question, then. What worries, what doubts? Was it me that didn't want Sam to get married, me that thought she'd stay forever single, pining away in the desert for her unrequited love, me? Me that wanted what I didn't have, couldn't have?

I picked up Lily Beth and walked back into our bedroom. Doralice was asleep on the bed, looking for all the world like one of God's angels. The baby in my arms laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled next to me, and I knew the answers to my questions. Everything I'd told Samantha was true; I'd fallen in love with and married the exact right person. And I could only hope that Sam was doing the same.


	7. The Dream (The Walls Talk)

Chapter 7 – The Dream (The Walls Talk)

It was discovered why Samantha kept Rosa on as a cook when they ate supper. "I couldn't do this in a million years if I tried," Sam declared when everyone was finished eating.

"That's alright, honey, I love you anyway," Zebulon reached over and patted her hand. "Not everybody is cut out to do everything well."

"That's encouraging," Sam replied. "How about you go out to the barn with me to check on the horses?"

"Now what does one have to do with the other?"

"Not a darned thing," she laughed in reply. "I just want some company."

"Alright, I think I can manage that." Zeb got up and held Sam's chair for her, and in just a minute or two they were out the door and halfway across the yard.

"Well, I've been dying to ask you. What do you think of them?" Sam was almost giddy with anticipation.

Zeb glanced over at her but kept on walking. "I think Doralice and Ginny are very nice. I like them both."

"No, Zeb, I meant Bret and Bart."

"Oh. They seem nice, too. I just haven't been around them as much yet."

"I don't know. I just can't see Bart with Doralice. Can you?"

They'd gotten to the barn and began checking to make sure all the livestock had been fed. This time Zeb did stop and give Sam a rather odd look. "I think they fit together just fine. He certainly seems to be in love with her. And Lily is just adorable."

Sam wasn't convinced. "He just . . . he just seemed discontented when we talked last night."

"That's his problem, Sam, if he is. Not yours. You should be thinkin' bout the wedding, not your ex-lover."

"We weren't lovers, Zeb. Not ex or any other kind."

"Are you sure? It sounds as if you were."

Sam turned around and gave her fiancé a disgusted look. "And it sounds as if you're jealous."

"Me? I haven't got a jealous bone in my body."

' _Maybe you should have,' Sam thought. 'You're beginning to lag behind a certain Texas boy in charisma.'_ Out loud she just said "Hmpf." And kept checking stalls.

When they returned to the house everyone was sitting in the big front room, drinking coffee and talking. Sam and Zeb joined them for a while, but Sam didn't feel much like talking and begged off, citing an aching head as an excuse. She really just wanted to retire to her bedroom and think about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She'd been sure about marrying Zeb . . . until she saw Bart again. And all those old feelings came rushing back to her, and she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Life with Zebulon would be so uncomplicated . . . there was no baggage to consider, no half-grown children to worry about.

And she loved Zeb, or something that passed for love. He was the first man that made her feel alive again, after all these years of being alone. But if there was a chance with Bart . . . no, that was crazy and she knew it. So she let herself drift off to sleep, getting ready to marry one man but dreaming about another . . .

 _She'd waited a long, long time for this day to come, the day she'd walk down the aisle to the man she was going to marry, and it was finally here. He looked so handsome, just like he always did, and she was thrilled that he'd come to his senses and come back to her. She'd waited half her life for him._

 _He smiled at her and took her hand as she approached the altar. This was right, and she knew it. "Oh, Bart," she murmured as he kissed her fingertips. "You were worth the wait." He smiled again, and they stood before the minister and were married, and she knew her hopes and dreams had all come true . . ._

Zebulon crawled into bed sometime later, and she rolled into his arms. "I love you, Sam," he whispered in her ear, and she snuggled close to him.

"Me too, Bart," she murmured, more asleep than awake, and didn't feel his body stiffen against her when he heard her words. Surely he'd heard her wrong. There was a smile on her face and it was obvious to him that she was asleep and dreaming . . . but the dreams weren't about him.

Then he was wide awake, wondering just how long she'd been dreaming about the man at the other end of the hall. The man with the beautiful blonde wife and the little bitty baby, not counting the other four children that were back in Texas. He lay there in pain, questioning just what he'd done to deserve this, before his brain began to reason again and he understood. . . she didn't have any more control over what she dreamt than he did, like the dream he remembered about the longhorns chasing him down Main Street back in Denver half naked and the whole town laughing about it. That's when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again and again, until she opened her eyes and whispered, "Zeb," and he held her tight against his chest and they eventually fell asleep . . . and in her dreams her beloved turned into Zebulon Turner.

XXXXXXXX

When Zeb finally stirred, the bed beside him was empty. He had no problem with that; he needed time to digest what occurred last night. He'd been uneasy when he first climbed in beside her; all he could think about were the men at the other end of the hall, one in particular. He knew that as much as Sam wanted them and their families at the wedding, she'd been nervous about inviting them. He'd encouraged her to do so, believing that the catharsis would be good for her. Now he wasn't so sure.

Years had passed since Samantha Crawford assumed responsibility for the ranch. Years in which she 'd learned to live with the decision she made that morning in St. Joseph, to abandon Bart Maverick and return home to Dry Springs by herself. Now and then she'd hear something about him; she knew when he married; when he began raising a family. It never seemed to disturb her until the day before yesterday, when the stage from Little Bend pulled into town. Zeb could see the difference in her. After last night he wondered if she'd call the wedding off.

He got dressed and went down the hall to the kitchen, where he found Sam trying to help Rosa cook breakfast. "Need some help, beautiful?" he asked Samantha as he started a fresh pot of coffee, then slipped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck.

"Sure," she answered. "What have you got in mind?"

"How's everything going for the wedding?" he asked.

Samantha was so startled that she dropped a spoon. "I thought you meant with breakfast."

"Well, I did. That too. I just wanted to know if you needed help gettin' everything together."

"Yes. You can put the plates out on the table."

"No," he corrected her, "I meant with the wedding."

"Why this big interest in the wedding all of a sudden?"

"Why not? It's my wedding too, you know. I just want to make sure it's gonna go off without a hitch."

"It will." Her voice was positive and steady.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"I'd bet my last dollar on it," was her reply.

"You're sure?" he asked again.

"What is wrong with you this morning? Yes, I'm sure. Why do you think I've changed my mind?"

He shook his head. "I got a look at the competition."

Sam stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Don't be absurd."

"You were in love with both of them, at one time or another, if I remember correctly."

"That was so long ago I don't even remember. It has no relevance. On Saturday I'll be Mrs. Zebulon Turner. And that's the only thing that's important."

"I hope so," Zeb agreed. Samantha sounded so sure about her choice, so confident that everything would fall into place and happen just as it was supposed to. How could he doubt her when he wanted so much to believe her? At that moment he made his decision; he was done second-guessing the woman he intended to marry.

If only Sam had been done second-guessing herself.


	8. Five Miles

Chapter 8 – Five Miles

The next two days seemed to fly by. Everybody pitched in to help with the wedding preparations, and Bret, me and Zeb went into town one night to play some poker against the locals. Doralice and Ginny both liked Samantha, and the affinity seemed to be mutual. On Monday, after we all turned in for the night, Doralice and me were lying in bed talking when my beautiful wife brought up something I hadn't paid any attention to before. "Don't you find it odd that Samantha never says 'I love you' to Zeb?"

"I never thought about it," I replied honestly. "But now that you mention it . . . "

'I haven't heard it one time."

"Maybe she's just shy about sayin' it," I speculated.

"Maybe."

We went on to talk about other things, but I didn't forget it. I paid close attention the next two days, and by Wednesday I realized Doralice had been right. No words of endearment, no stolen kisses; in fact, I saw no signs of affection at all between the two of them. Now I ain't the most observant man on the face of the earth, but there just seemed to be nothing there, and I began to wonder about the upcoming union. Don't get me wrong, I know that all those little things don't really amount to a hill o' beans in a good marriage, and that every man and woman has different ways of showing their partner they are loved and wanted. But you have to remember, I'd known Sam in a different capacity, and she was loving and tender, and above all, affectionate. I saw none of that in her relationship with Zeb Turner. It was almost like they were barely acquaintances.

The more I thought about it, the more worried I got. If she wasn't in love with Zeb, why was she gettin' married? I know, I know, it was really none of my business, but this was a woman that I'd felt something for in my life, and I wanted her to be happy. And from where I stood, it didn't look like happiness was in the cards.

So I stuck my nose in where it didn't belong and asked her to go on a buggy ride on Thursday. There were some spots on the ranch I didn't get to see when I rode around with Jess, places that at one time had meant somethin' to me. So I told Doralice I was gonna ask Sam to go with me and, bless her heart, while she probably wanted to tell me I was an idiot, what she told me was the exact opposite. "Go, handsome, and enjoy yourself. One last buggy ride for the old days. Just remember who to come home to." We kissed, and I made it clear all I wanted was to see Sam happy. Doralice smiled and sent me off, no doubt expecting me to make a fool of myself. I didn't disappoint her.

I caught Sam right after breakfast. Zeb and Bret were goin' somewhere with Jess, and Ginny was determined to write down some of Rosa's recipes, with Doralice's assistance. "Hey, I had an idea. How about if we took the buggy and went out to . . . " and I named off several places around the ranch that we used to go. She listened and looked pleased.

"I'd love to," she told me. "I've wanted to talk to you, anyway." If I'd have been payin' more attention, I would have realized there was somethin' goin' on behind those eyes of hers. "Just let me get cleaned up, and we can go."

Thirty minutes later we were in the buggy and on our way to Painter's Bluff, the first place I remember on the ranch. It was peaceful and secluded, someplace we could sit and talk without being disturbed. And about five miles away.

It was a beautiful ride, and Samantha seemed to be in a better frame of mind than she'd been in all week. We talked about the first time we'd each seen the bluff and reminisced about Caroline. I think it was the first time I'd ever discussed her with anyone, and it was almost like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I never realized that Sam missed her almost as much as I did. The difference was I'd found Doralice and the love of my life many years ago. Sam was a newcomer to happiness, and was just beginning to get used to having someone in her life.

Or so I thought. It didn't take too long to find out just how wrong I was.

The bluff was just as beautiful as I remembered it, and it felt right to be there. The only problem was, I had the wrong woman with me. But that wasn't Sam's fault, and I wasn't gonna make her miserable over it. I'd brought a blanket and Sam had brought a bottle of wine and glasses, which I didn't know about until she pulled it out of the bag she had with her. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but I guessed that a glass wouldn't hurt anything.

We sat and drank and enjoyed the view, talking about some of the things that had happened in the last few years, and I finally brought up what I wanted to discuss with her – marrying Zeb. I guess I just wanted to know that the marriage would make her happy. I didn't have any right to stick my nose in her business, but that didn't stop me from doing so. "You've got me worried Sam . . . is this wedding what you really want? I've never even heard you tell Zeb you love him."

I wasn't expecting what came next. "I do love him, Bart, but not the way I should. The only man I've ever loved like that . . . is you." And before I could open my mouth and say anything, I had an armful of Samantha, and she was kissing me like it was all those years ago in St. Joseph. I grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her away; not that it did much good. In mere seconds she was back at it, and I was on the ground with her on top of me.

"Sam . . . stop." I tried to push her away one last time but it did no good. I had no idea where any of this was coming from, and I didn't want to find out. I tried again. "STOP!" This time I managed to get her off me and I quickly sat up. I was stunned . . . what did she mean? What did any of this mean? And why was she marrying Zeb if she was in love with . . . ME? "What's this all about, Samantha? You know I'm married, and crazy in love with Doralice. My God, we've got five kids! Where is all this comin' from? I came for your wedding, not to start up a love affair!" I'd already been accused of that with Josephine Whitlock, and I had no intention of letting whatever this was go any further.

"But . . . But I thought you understood . . . you're the one I want. You've always been the one I want. I said I'd marry Zeb because I was lonely; I hadn't seen you or heard from you in so many years. But it's you, Bart . . . it's always been you. And I can tell . . . just the way you talk to me, the way you look at me. You still love me, too."

I was stunned. Where had all this come from? How could I have not seen what was right in front of me? And what was I gonna do now? "Samantha. I don't love you. I love my wife and my family, and I have no intention of breakin' them up for you or anybody else. If you think I came here to be with you, you're sadly mistaken. Why would I drag my wife and baby all the way here just to abandon them? You're not thinkin' straight, girl. You better postpone the wedding, if you think I'm here for you, because that's a good man and you have no business marryin' him." She tried to crawl back into my lap and I scrambled to my feet. "No. I didn't bring you out here to tell you I loved you. I wanted to talk to you about why you don't seem to love Zeb the way you should. And now I know why, but you're wrong. This has all got to end. NOW."

She sat there for almost five minutes, just staring at my boots, while I leaned against the tree we'd been sittin' under. And then, without any warning, she stood up and ran for the buggy. The next thing I knew, I was watching her drive down the road, getting away from me as fast as she could. It was five miles back to the ranch. I remembered that every step of the way.


	9. The Long Walk Home (The Walls Talk)

Chapter 9 – The Long Walk Home (The Walls Talk)

"Samantha?" Bret had wandered into the barn looking for his brother. He didn't find Bart, but he did locate Samantha.

"Yes, Bret?" She was grooming her horse and didn't turn around.

"Didn't you and Bart go out for a buggy ride this morning?"

"We did."

"Did he go somewhere after he came back?"

"Uh . . . " Samantha turned around with a guilty look on her face. "Not really."

Now Bret was worried. "What does that mean, not really?"

"He, uh . . . he hasn't come back yet."

"What do you mean, he hasn't come back yet?"

"He hasn't returned from Painter's Bluff yet."

She was making no sense. "Did you leave him with a horse?"

"No."

"With the buggy?"

"No."

"That's over five miles from here, Samantha."

"I . . . I know."

Enough of this nonsense. He grabbed her by the arms and held onto her. "Did you leave him out there to walk back?" There was no answer from Sam; she just stared at the ground. Bret shook her two or three times. "Did you?"

In the tiniest voice imaginable she whispered, "Yes."

He let go of her and took the bridle from her hands, swinging himself up on her horse and galloping out of the barn, barebacked.

XXXXXXXX

Zebulon was in the house talking to Doralice. Lily was asleep in the bedroom, and the adults were sitting in the living room. "How long have you and Bart known each other?" Zeb asked.

"Oh, goodness. Almost half a lifetime. We were friends for years before we became anything else."

"Did you meet him in Little Bend?"

"No. It was a lot more complicated than that."

Zebulon waited to see if she would continue. He had the feeling there was quite a story there, should she choose to tell it.

And eventually, she did. "As a matter of fact, I first met him in Mexico, when my mother sent him down there to save me from being hanged by the Federales."

Zeb was startled but kept a pretty good poker face. "You? What did they want to hang you for?"

"I shot my husband in self-defense and killed him. His parents had money and power, and they insisted it was murder. I was given a Mexican trial and was convicted and sentenced to hang. Bart came down to Mexico posing as a Texas Ranger and brought me back to Texas, where I'd already been exonerated. He almost died for his efforts."

"What happened?"

"The Federales found out he wasn't who he said he was and came after us. He was shot, and I almost lost him. His brother and his cousin came lookin' for us in Mexico and got us back home."

"And then . . . love blossomed?"

"Goodness, no. Several years went by before we were anything but friends. My own mother told me I'd never be the one to marry him, and I agreed with her, but somethin' took hold between us. Eventually, we ended up together, and we've been that way ever since."

"Any regrets?" Zeb asked.

"Not a one," Doralice answered as Ginny entered the room. She was carrying Bodeen, who was sleeping soundly.

"And what about you, Virginia? Did Bret rescue you from somebody?"

Ginny smirked at Zeb. "Almost the other way around, Zeb."

"Ginny was a Pinkerton Detective when she met Bret and Bart," Doralice explained. "They gave her a hand on a case."

"More than a hand, Zeb. They practically solved it themselves. And that was only the first one we worked on together."

"They worked for Pinkerton?" Zeb queried. "I thought they were gamblers. How'd they get involved with you?"

Ginny laughed, thinking back on the afternoon she'd met the Mavericks. "I met 'em on a train, headed for Denver. They let me think they were Federal Marshals there to help me with Charlie Daggett."

"Charlie Daggett? It was you and the Maverick's that kept him from escaping?"

"You knew about that?" Ginny asked. "They tried so hard to keep it quiet."

"My Pa was the sheriff in Pueblo City. I knew what happened but I was sworn to secrecy. I can't believe that was you. Pa was impressed by everything that happened, and everybody involved."

"Trust me, it wasn't glamorous, by any means. My boss thought they'd be perfect for a case we'd just gotten. It required at least one gambler, and two would be even better. And the money was there to be made. So we worked on it together, with Bret playing my husband. That's when we got close."

"How long ago was that?"

Ginny laughed. "A lifetime ago. Enough about us. What about you and Samantha?"

Zeb smiled, remembering. "I came down here to see about buyin' some land, and got steered toward the Double C. Sam wasn't interested in sellin', but I was interested in her. I kept makin' excuses to stay longer and longer, and eventually I had to admit the real reason I was still here. And that's when I found out she was just as interested in me as I was in her. Simple story."

"Nothing up in Denver to draw you back?"

"No, Ginny, not a thing. The land down here's just as beautiful as up north, and there's nobody like Samantha where I come from."

Sam was standing outside the front door, having heard most of the conversation going on inside. She turned and quietly made her way off the porch, back towards the barn. Zeb would never speak to her again if he knew what she'd done earlier today. For that matter, Bart would never speak to her. ' _Oh_ _stupid, stupid, Samantha,_ ' she thought to herself _. 'Why did you have to throw yourself at Bart? How did you ever convince yourself he still loved you?'_

She was back in the barn when Bret came riding in, his brother doubled up on her horse. Bart took one look at her, slid down off of Commander, and stalked out of the barn. Bret took his time to dismount.

"Bret? Is he as mad as I think he is?"

"No, Samantha, he's worse than that. He was all for catchin' the coach out of Dry Springs tomorrow and goin' home."

"Can I . . . can I talk to you?"

Bret took off his hat and scratched his head. "About what happened?"

"Yes."

"What good is it gonna do?"

"I need . . . to understand. To figure out . . . if I should get married or not."

"And you think I'm gonna be able to help you decide?" Bret always knew Samantha was a little . . . odd.

"No, I have to make up my own mind. But I think you can help me."

Bret pulled out a cigar. "Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead."

He lit the cigar and took a deep draw on it. "Alright. Let's go outside."

They walked outside and Bret saw Bart in a rocking chair on the porch, with a cigar in his hand. He guided Samantha around the other side of the paddock, where his brother couldn't see them. Best to let Bart do some cooling down before engaging in mortal combat with him. Besides, he wanted to know what had prompted Sam to abandon Bart with no way to return other than walk. And there was only one way to find out.


	10. The Talk

Chapter 10 – The Talk

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The buggy was tearing down the road away from me, with Samantha whipping the horse into a frenzy. So much for honesty . . . whether she was angry or hurt or both didn't much matter . . . it was gonna be a long walk home.

It did give me time to think. I went over everything we'd discussed, including the talk we had the first night we arrived. I couldn't remember anything that would lead her to believe I was in love with her, or that I wanted to abandon my wife and family and run away with her. Evidently I'd been saying one thing and Sam had been hearing another.

It was hot and dusty, and after a couple miles I was soaked with sweat. I kept hoping someone would notice my absence and come looking for me, but it hadn't happened by the time I'd walked two-thirds of the way back to the Double C. I finally had to sit down and rest, so I picked a tree that gave plenty of shade and was close to the road, threw the blanket down and sat on it. I must have been there fifteen or twenty minutes before I heard what sounded like a horse approaching from the north – the direction the ranch was in. I moved around behind the tree, where I couldn't be seen, just in case the person was hostile. I watched them get closer and closer for a couple minutes until I could finally recognize the rider. It was Brother Bret, and he was riding Samantha's horse Commander – bareback.

I stepped out from behind the tree and he pulled up. "Too much of a hurry to throw a saddle on him?" I asked.

"Damn right I was. I took him away from Sam and got here as fast as I could. What was she thinkin', anyway?"

"She wasn't, Bret. The girl is all screwed up."

"Don't tell me . . . let me guess. The weddin's off."

"Maybe not," I answered. "It depends on whether she really loves Zeb or not."

"Who else would she be in love with?" he asked and I hated to answer him, but I had to.

"Me."

"Get serious."

"I am," I told him. "That's all she wanted to talk about. Me and her gettin' together."

"But . . . you've got . . . "

"I know. A wife and five kids. That didn't seem to bother her."

Bret shook his head. "She's lost her mind. You have to talk to her."

"I talked to her until she jumped in the buggy and ran away. She ain't listenin' to me."

"She sure ain't gonna listen to me."

"She might, Bret. I think she wants to get married – she's just scared and lookin' for an easy way out."

"I haven't got an easy way out for her."

"Neither do I. All I can tell you is I'm done talkin' to her. Far as I'm concerned we can get on the coach and go back to Little Bend in the mornin'."

My brother reached down to give me a hand and swung me up on Commander behind him. "Just like old times," he told me.

"Not quite."

When we got back to the house Bret rode straight into the barn and almost trampled Sam. I gave her as ugly a look as I could manage and went to sit on the porch. I wasn't ready to go inside just yet, so I smoked a cigar and rocked. In just a few minutes Bret came out of the barn with a cigar in his hands, followed closely by Samantha. She looked miserable, but she wasn't the one that had just walked almost five miles home. I sat on the porch for another hour, cooling down and cooling off, before I saw any trace of the two of them again. The next time I got a glimpse of her she looked more like Samantha and less like a little-lost lamb. She stayed out in the barn when Bret came to the porch.

"Well? What do you think? Weddin' or no weddin'?"

Bret shook his head and sat down on the porch steps. "Right now I'd say it's a toss-up. I believe you're right – she has feelings for Zeb. But she sure does have herself confused. If I'd been that unsure, Ginny and me never would have married. The biggest problem she's got is still tryin' to hang onto you. And I can't figure out why. What happened between the two of you, anyway?"

I'd gone over and over again in my memories and couldn't find anything that would make Sam want to hold onto me. I was certainly no great catch, as Doralice would be more than willing to tell you. And I harbored no secret love for Samantha. What I felt for her had faded into nothing more than sisterly affection years go. I wanted her to be happy, and at first it seemed like she might be, with Zeb for a husband. Now I didn't know what to think. It looked like I was gonna have to talk to Samantha after all. Or we could just give up and go home. I was sorely tempted . . .

I got up out of the rocking chair and stretched, and Bret took that as a sign. "She's still out in the barn," he told me right before walkin' into the house. I went down the porch steps and headed across the yard, hoping that whatever I was about to say would do some good. Whichever way it went, Zebulon Turner deserved a wife that loved him, and only him.

XXXXXXXX

She'd gone back to groomin' Commander and didn't look up when I came up behind her. "Samantha."

"I know. I acted like a child, and I'm sorry I ran off and left you. You did your best, I'm just too pig-headed to see what's right in front of me."

So far this was goin' good. I'd only had to say one word and she was ready to give up. I just didn't know which way she was gonna go. "Samantha, turn around and look at me."

Which she finally did. "You're not in love with me, and you know it. You left me in Missouri all those years ago because you knew that then. Don't trash the most rational decision you ever made."

"But Bart – "

"Do you love Zeb?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you tryin' so hard to call off the weddin'?"

Sam unlatched Commander's stall door and turned him into the stall before turning around to face me. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "I don't know. I was so sure the wedding was exactly what I wanted. And then you arrived on that stage, and I just didn't know anymore."

"What if I wasn't here? What if we'd never come?" I stopped for a minute and let those questions sink in. "What if the decision to part in Missouri had been a mutual decision? Something we both wanted?"

I leaned against the stall gate and waited for the answers to those questions to sink in. I could see, for the first time, that she was really thinkin' about what it would mean if we'd parted company as friends that couldn't make it work. She'd have stopped carryin' around this romantic notion of me a long time ago.

"Think about it, Samantha. Zeb loves you, and you just admitted you love him. You can have a good, happy life with him. You don't need me for that." I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Don't throw away somethin' that's right for somethin' that'll never be."

I turned away from her, walking out of the barn and back into the house. "Hey, handsome, where you been all day?" Doralice asked as I came in through the front door. Lily must have just finished eatin', because she was across Doralice's shoulder, trying to burp. I took our youngest child from her mother and finished the job, and Lily Beth gave me the biggest smile. What a lucky man I am. I hoped Sam would realize where she belonged, just as I had a long time ago. We'd just have to wait and see.


	11. No More Ghosts

Chapter 11 – No More Ghosts

Supper was subdued, to say the least. I think the only ones talking were Doralice, Ginny and Zeb. Bret said something like "Pass the potatoes," and I mumbled, "Thank you."

After the meal was over, Doralice and Ginny got up to do the dishes. I told them both to go relax, me and Bret would take care of those. He gave me a Bret glare but never said anything, and we were almost halfway finished before words were spoken. "Did you talk to her?"

"Yep."

"Did you get anywhere?"

"I don't know. She listened to me. I don't know if any of what I was saying got through to her."

"Any progress on the wedding?"

"Nope. She didn't know if she was gonna get married or not."

Bret picked up another plate to dry before turning the questions to me. "What are you gonna do?"

"Me? Wait. For now, at least. If she ain't done nothin' by Friday, we'll catch the stage back to Little Bend. If I'd known the trouble my bein' here would cause . . . "

"I think you were just an excuse, Bart. I don't think she's been sure about this since the very beginning. But if she don't marry him, she'll say it was because of you."

"And I'll forever be blamed for stoppin' a weddin'."

"Yep. Glad it's you and not me."

"Thanks a lot."

We finished the clean-up in silence. As soon as we were done, I headed for our room. I was worn out, from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. I stripped down to my Union Suit and slipped beneath the covers, then fell asleep faster than you can say 'bed.' It was a night filled with restlessness; one dream faded right into another. I don't remember them all, just that there were a lot of them and they seemed disjointed. I woke up several times and found myself alone in the bed; I have no idea where Doralice was.

Sometime towards morning I finally settled down, and when I woke up for good it was light outside, and there was a woman in my arms. I was happy to find her there; I pulled her closer and kissed her until her eyelids fluttered open. "Good morning, beautiful," I murmured and was rewarded with a smile.

"Hiya, handsome." She looked peaceful and happy, like getting away from everything had been good for her. I forgot how hard she worked, with five babies and a house and a husband to take care of. And that wasn't counting the work she helped with on the ranch.

"How are you this mornin'?"

"Good," she answered, as I leaned down to kiss her. "Everything alright with you? You didn't get a chance to tell me how things went yesterday."

"That's because I'm still not sure."

"Did you get to see the things you wanted to see?"

"Not exactly." I was gonna tell Doralice what had happened sooner or later; it might as well be now. So I started at the beginning and finished when I climbed into bed last night. She laid there and listened while I explained what had been one of the crazier days of my life, and looked at me with sympathy when I was finished.

"She's got cold feet and she's usin' you as a reason. It's a shame, too, because Zeb really loves her. You think she'll go through with the wedding?"

"I don't know, blue-eyes. If she hasn't made a decision by tomorrow, I think we should pack up and head for home. Bret agrees with me. What about you?"

"I think that's a good idea. But I'd like to talk to her before we do that. I don't know that it'll make a difference, but I'd like to try. You have any objections?"

"Me? Not a one in the world." I was about to say somethin' else when Lily finally decided she'd waited long enough for breakfast, and started to cry.

"Sounds like the little one wants her momma. Her poppas gonna get dressed and go see the spots I didn't get to see yesterday. That alright with you?"

"It is," Doralice told me as she began to suckle the baby. "Just don't let Sam go with you."

"Not a chance," I replied as I got out of bed. By the time I was shaved and dressed, Doralice was up and Lily had resumed sleeping. Rosa was cooking breakfast and I waited, deciding I'd be better off if I ate. Besides, Sam wasn't anywhere in sight – truth be told, neither was Zebulon.

Within thirty minutes I was on a horse and headed to the places I didn't get to see yesterday. Painter's Bluff, Hidden Hills, the east pasture, the road to what once was Lon Tenley's ranch. I spent most of the day riding around the ranch, looking at places that had lived for long years in my memory. Some were exactly as I remembered them; some had changed. I was pleased to see that Tenley's ranch had been broken up into two small farms . . . it looked a lot different than it had all those years ago. Cleaner, safer, nothing like the way it was when Tenley was still alive.

And then, of course, I had to go to the little church; the one with the graveyard. I hadn't been back to visit since the day we laid Caroline in the ground. It didn't look the same, but I don't know if that was caused by the passage of so many years or by the fact that I didn't remember much about that day. I was hurt and in shock, and I was sure that I'd never get over what had happened.

But time had gone by, just like my life, and wonderful things had helped erase the pain and bitterness from my soul. First Doralice, then our family, and everything I went through with Caroline was just a memory. And they were memories I could live with, and appreciate what I had now. That beautiful woman I was married to, who loved me like no other and bore my children, who brought me back to life. The one who always stood by my side and faced every day with me. The love I might not have appreciated if I hadn't loved Caroline first.

I had expected tears; anticipated them, but there were none. I said my goodbyes and put my hat back on, then mounted my horse and rode back towards the ranch. After all these years I was finally free of the ghosts that haunted me, and I knew that I was right where I belonged – on the B Bar M Ranch with the woman I loved, and our children.


	12. The Guiding Hand (The Walls Talk)

Chapter 12 – The Guiding Hand (The Walls Talk)

Once breakfast was over and Bart was gone, Doralice went looking for Samantha. She found her out in the barn, this time grooming one of the new horses. Right now Sam needed something constructive to keep her hands busy while her mind raced a thousand miles an hour. She kept hearing Bart's words over and over again in her head. _'You're not in love with me, and you know it. You left me in Missouri all those years ago because you knew that then. Don't trash the most rational decision you ever made.'_

Doralice was so quiet it took a few minutes for Sam to realize she was there. Then Sam was embarrassed that she was thinking about Bart rather than Zeb. "Are you looking for Bart?" she asked his wife.

"No, Samantha, I was lookin' for you. Bart has gone riding. He's bound to be gone for a while; I've no doubt he'll visit Caroline's grave before he returns. I was wondering if we could talk?"

Sam stopped what she was doing and gave Doralice a perplexed look. "About what?" she asked.

"Your wedding. If there's gonna be one. Or if you're gonna break that poor man's heart."

"Bart told you what happened." It was a statement rather than an accusation.

"Did you think he wouldn't?"

"Did you come to tell me to leave Bart alone?"

Doralice laughed, that full-throated laugh that Bart loved so much. "No, Samantha, I came to see if I could help you."

"Help me? Help me do what? I tried to steal your husband. Why would you want to help me?"

Doralice walked around the horse, until she stood next to Sam, and lowered the volume of her voice. "Because there's a good man in love with you, and I think the only thing holding you back is fear."

The grooming stopped, and Sam looked at Doralice. Just who was this woman that Bart had married? "What have I got to be afraid of?"

"Committing yourself to one person for life, and then finding out it's the wrong person."

"So I must think Bart is the right person."

Doralice shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I think you just feel safe with him. You probably always have. You've already committed to the right man, but you've gotten cold feet. Once you say _'I do'_ there's no goin' back . . . but you do love Zebulon, don't you?"

Samantha put the mare in a stall and threw the brush in a bucket. "Yes, I love Zeb. But probably not enough. What if I marry him and then find out he's not the right man?"

"What if you don't marry him and find out that he is?"

"Oh." It was a startled sound, small and anxious. It matched the expression on Samantha's face perfectly. She hadn't ever thought about that particular 'what if.' No consideration at all was given to _'What if I let the right man go because I'm afraid to stick to a decision?'_ Maybe that's what Bart was trying to tell her yesterday. It was precisely what Doralice was trying to tell her today.

"Were you scared at all when you got married?" Doralice hadn't expected that question, and she gave it some thought before answering it.

"A little. I just wanted everything to be right . . . we had so many obstacles in our way before we actually took our vows. But I wasn't worried about the man I was marrying . . . I knew Bart was loving and kind, and I was sure we'd be happy. I just wanted it to be over with, so we could really begin our lives together. You got a man that loves you, Samantha, and it ain't fair to him for you to put him off like that. Marry him or don't, but make a decision and stick with it."

"You've given me a lot to think about, Doralice. You suppose Bart'll ever forgive me for what I did to him yesterday?"

There was that laugh again. "Oh, I'm sure he will. Especially if you decide to marry Zeb. He doesn't hold a grudge too awful long anymore."

Samantha watched Doralice as she walked out of the barn. She'd been prepared to dislike Bart's wife, but she hadn't expected to feel just the opposite. There was no doubt in her mind, Bart Maverick had married the right woman. Doralice was everything Sam wasn't . . . tender, nurturing, patient. The woman seemed to know instinctively what her husband needed, and Sam had to admit to herself that Bart appeared peaceful and content. Ways that he had never seemed with her.

She saddled Commander and rode out of the barn, heading towards the one place she thought she could find him. Once her head cleared it hadn't taken long to realize she'd made a decision, and it seemed fitting that Bart be the first person to hear that decision. She wondered why it had taken her so long to know what was right and what was wrong for her, and to act on it. She urged Commander to hurry, knowing she had a lot to do before the wedding . . . she had to say goodbye to an old life, one that she'd clung to for years and years, before she could fully embrace a new one. And for the first time in weeks, she was excited about what lay in front of her.


	13. A Decision, At Last

Chapter 13 – A Decision, At Last

I hadn't gotten more than a hundred feet down the road when I saw a familiar sight . . . Samantha riding Commander as if his tail was on fire. _'What now?'_ I wondered. My first impulse was to take off and do my best to escape, but I knew she'd catch me eventually, so instead I stopped and waited.

"Thank you," she told me as soon as she got close to me.

"For what?" I asked in return.

"For not making me chase you across six counties."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'd have had to face you eventually, so it might as well be out here. At least no one can hear either of us yelling."

For a moment I thought her feelings were hurt; she had the strangest look on her face. Then she asked in a subdued voice, "Can we go back to see Caroline?"

"Why? I just left there."

She swallowed hard and looked away when she answered me. "Because I have some things to tell you, and I'd like her to hear them."

"Sam – "

"Please, Bart."

I exhaled a big sigh and turned my horse around. "Alright, let's go."

We headed back towards the cemetery, riding the short distance in silence. When we got there, Sam dismounted and made her way to a bench that sat next to Caroline's final resting place. I hadn't seen the bench when I was here before, but now I dismounted and stood beside it. She looked up at me with those big liquid eyes and murmured "Please" as she patted the bench next to her. I finally sat down, right where she wanted me.

"I talked to Doralice this morning."

That was the last thing I expected to hear. "Is she still in one piece?"

"She's a wise lady, your wife. I actually listened to her, and agreed with most of what she told me."

"You did?"

"I owe you an apology."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Just one?"

"At least one."

"So, here's the bottom line, Samantha. Wedding or no wedding?"

"It's not that cut and dried, Bart."

"It should be," I muttered.

"I'm going to marry Zeb on Saturday."

"No changing your mind between now and then?"

"No changing my mind." She reached over and took my hand in hers. "I did love you, Bart Maverick. Still do, in a way. But not like I used to. And you were right, something changed the day I left you in St. Joseph."

My mouth was on the verge of sayin' somethin' that would most likely get me in trouble, and probably hurt Sam's feelings to boot, so I just kept quiet. A minute or so went by before Samantha started again.

"Doralice pointed out what I was afraid of . . . not so much marrying the wrong man, as not marrying the right man and walking away from him. Just like I had from you. We could have been happy . . . if I'd been willing to give you what you needed. All I had to do was stay, instead of coming back here. I couldn't do that.

"Now I've got a second chance, with Zeb. All I have to do is marry him. So I'm going to. That chance I wasn't willing to take with you I'm willing to take with him."

She paused again; this time when she started her voice was strong and steady, full of honesty and compassion. "I'm sorry for what I did to you yesterday, and I'm sorry for throwin' myself at you from the moment you got here. I think maybe I've grown up a little since y'all arrived, and it's all because of the Mavericks. I should have listened to you years ago, but it's taken me all this time to hear what you've been sayin' all along. Thank you for everything you said and did for me."

There were big tears in those eyes, and I reached down and wiped them away. "Caroline would be proud of you." My turn to pause; it took a minute to say what I wanted to. "She'd be proud of both of us. Who knew it would take this long to get everything resolved between us? Just be happy, Sam; if you can do that, that's all she wanted for either one of us."

"Are you happy, Bart? I know the answer, but I'd like to hear it."

"Yes, Sam, I am happy. Really and truly happy."

She put her head on my shoulder, and we sat there for probably thirty minutes before I said, "It's time to go home, Samantha."

"Yes, it is," she responded, and we got up and mounted our horses.

"Goodbye, Caroline," I murmured as we rode away.

Someone was sittin' on the porch as we rode up to the house, but it took me a while to make out that it was my own darlin' lady. When I dismounted at the paddock, I handed the reins to Sam and asked, "Can you have Jess take care of my horse? I've got to talk to someone."

Sam glanced up at the house, then smiled as she accepted what I was handin' her. "Sure, go ahead."

I took great long strides to get to Doralice, and she stood just as I reached the bottom step. From there it was no problem to sweep her into my arms and hold her close. "Bart, put me down."

"Not until I tell you how much I love you," I replied.

"Oh, does that mean Sam made a decision?"

"Absolutely, blue-eyes. We're goin' to a weddin'." And I pulled her down to eye level and kissed her. I'm not sure who was smiling the most – me or the love of my life. And by the time Sam joined us on the porch, we were three of the happiest people you'd ever wanna meet.


	14. The Weding

Chapter 14 – The Wedding

Saturday was a beautiful day for a wedding. Samantha and Zebulon were being married by the local pastor, Alvin Davis, right in their living room. Altogether Sam figured that she actually invited somewhere around forty or fifty people.

We were all havin' breakfast that morning when Zeb asked if he could talk to me. I said 'sure' and we went out on the porch. I pulled out a cigar and offered it to him, and he took it. Then he struck a match and lit first mine, then his. I took a deep draw of smoke and noticed Zeb do the same; we both blew it out. "Look," he began, "I know this is gonna be an unusual request, but there's a reason for it. I don't know anybody here but Sam, and I don't have a best man for the wedding. Since you're the closest thing she's got to kin, I was wonderin' if maybe you'd do me a favor and stand up for me today. I'd sure be grateful if you would."

There's somethin' special about standin' up for a man at his wedding, even when you don't know him very well. I needed to know this was what Zeb really wanted. "You sure?"

He nodded his head. "I know how much you and Doralice have done to help Sam see the light. And I know you did it without trying to persuade her one way or the other, so that the decision would really be hers. I've loved her since I first set eyes on her, but I knew she was scared of gettin' married. So when she said yes . . . anyway, I need a best man, and I can't think of a better one than you."

I was surprised and pleased at the same time. "If that's what you really want . . . I'd be honored to stand up for you." We shook hands on it – Zeb seemed satisfied that I was willing to help with the formalities of gettin' him and Sam married.

When we finished smokin' we went back inside, and I got another cup of coffee. Doralice leaned over and whispered, "Did he ask you?"

So she'd been in on it. "Yes."

"I told him to at least ask you, but it was Zeb's idea. I figured you'd probably say yes."

"Anything I can do to make this weddin' go off without a hitch. What's left to be done?"

She looked pleased. "Not much. Rosa's got most of the food made, and Bret is gonna help Jess set up chairs they borrowed from the church. This thing is turnin' into quite the event to attend on a Saturday afternoon."

"And to think it almost didn't happen." Something occurred to me then. "Why didn't Zeb ask Jess to be his best man?"

Doralice smiled. Whatever it was, she was tickled by it. "Jess is giving the bride away."

"Well, that's a good enough reason. Looks like this might actually happen. Have you seen Samantha?

"Just for a few minutes. I took some coffee to her room, she didn't want to come out here this mornin'."

"How was she?" I'm sure I sounded anxious; I was gonna be anxious until they were married.

"Calm. Peaceful. Happy. In a hurry to be married. Everything she wasn't before today. I don't think there's anything to worry about, Bart."

"Good." That was exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted this wedding to go off without a hitch so that we could catch the stage for Little Bend tomorrow afternoon. I missed the twins. And Beauregard. And Breton. I couldn't wait to get home to all of them again. I missed Tim and the ranch, and I even missed Pappy and Maude.

At two o'clock that afternoon, Samantha Crawford married Zebulon Turner. The bride wore a cream-colored gown and looked as beautiful as I'd ever seen her. The front room of the ranch house on the Double C was filled to capacity; I even recognized some of the folk that attended. Maude Lerner, Celeste Hoffman and one of her sisters, Billy Errington and his whole family, Jimmy Whitlaw and all of the ranch hands, and ex-Sheriff Baker, long since retired. There was a bunch of folks there I didn't know, but that was to be expected given all the time that had passed since I'd left Dry Springs.

When it was all over, there was a lot of good food eaten and good whiskey consumed. Samantha was as happy as I'd ever seen her, and Zeb couldn't stop smiling. Bret danced with the bride, and so did I, and Doralice and Ginny both took their turns with the new groom. The festivities weren't over until almost ten o'clock that night, and by the time everyone else was gone, we all went to bed and left the cleanup for the next day.

We were fortunate. Jess and Jimmy brought in a crew and put everything back where it was supposed to be, and the only thing we were left with was to pack. That job was finished in no time at all, and soon enough it was time for the newlyweds to take us back to town, to wait for the stage. Kisses, hugs and congratulations were exchanged, and I found myself standing with the new Mrs. Turner.

"I did it," she proclaimed. "I actually did it."

"And how does it feel?" I asked her.

A smile spread across her face. "It feels good, Bart. It feels right. Thanks for helping me see what was right in front of me."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Turner."

"Mrs. Turner. I have to get used to that." The smile was temporarily replaced by a wistful look.

"Yes, you do." I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She looked up at me one last time with those eyes, and squeezed my hands. "I love you, Bart Maverick. I'll always love you. It's just not the same, anymore. It's like . . . well, it's like old, dear friends. You take care of Doralice and all those babies, y'hear?"

"I will. You do the same for Zeb."

Samantha nodded, and I was the last one to board the coach. We pulled away from Dry Springs in the dark, and I watched out the window until I couldn't see her anymore. Goodbye, Samantha, and good luck.

tbc


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

Six months later I was in town one day and stopped by the Post Office. There was a letter from Samantha and Zeb, addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Bart Maverick. I went back to Maude's and read it twice, then tucked it in my coat pocket before heading back to the ranch.

I forgot about it until after supper, then I pulled it out and handed it to Doralice. It was brief but to the point.

 _Dear Bart and Doralice,_

 _I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write, but I've been a little busy around here. This is just a short note to let you know that Zeb and me are going to be momma and poppa . . . we're going to have a baby. We are both thrilled and can't wait!_

 _I promise to write more soon._

 _This comes with all our love,_

 _Samantha and Zebulon_

Neither one of us can wait to see whether they have a boy or a girl.

The End


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